Burning Desire

What John had seen before with his new ability was something of a light show, but the spells that were erupting from Adantia and Lord Brighton when they clashed again were so vivid, so increasingly fast and numerous, it felt more like John had entered another world – or at the very least was on one hell of an acid trip. The almost serene pushing and pulling was replaced by a slew of flashes and crashes, not the least of which came from the sudden crackling of the cables and golden barrier surrounding the inner section of the courtyard. Lord Brighton was speaking so fast that John could barely make out an occasional word, “Lady” this or “Light” that as more spells emerged from his body.

“They’re pushing the limits of how much their defenses can take…” Moira growled, her voice both concerned and angry. “This is too much! They’re putting themselves at risk…”

“Should we clear the area?” John asked, glancing around at the crowd gathered to watch the spectacle of their combat.

“Despite their disregard for their own safety, they are reinforcing these protections as much as their attacks. They seem to both have at least a modicum more sense than I dared hope they would…”

John glanced over the barriers with a bit of skepticism. True, the golden light was not fading, and there were runes embedded in the metal cables Adantia was wielding, glistening brightly, but the constant sounds of crackling did not inspire much trust. Neither did the way the cables ebbed and bent every time that the two fighters within clashed now.

“You were holding onto this kind of power?” Adantia asked, laughing even as she wielded an entire interwoven cluster of cables to deflect one of Lord Brighton’s strikes before it could connect. “The way John described the Order, I thought that you were barely hanging on. You’re not half bad when you really let loose! What, no bigger ambitions?”

“The fires of the battlefield burn brightly, and often out of control. Few needs have swayed me to overcome my cautions – and fewer enemies dare face a Lord Protector on the battlefield directly,” Lord Brighton called out, while repositioning himself for a follow-up strike. “But make no mistake – these old bones might be riddled with rust, but they still hold enough power to discern the truth of this matter! Have at you!”

“If you insist… I guess I’d better let myself run a little wild too,” Adantia said, a gleam sparking in her eyes that John hadn’t seen before. A chill ran down his spine as the cables re-positioned themselves, an inner voice suddenly screaming to John that something great and terrible was about to happen.

“Father, I command you to-”

Moira’s words were lost even to John’s ears, not to any overwhelming noise, but rather a sudden and abrupt silence. A wave of magics in a rainbow of colors poured out of Adantia’s cables as runes ignited across the entirety of their exposed lengths, not only throwing Lord Brighton’s mace completely free of his grip, but partially passing through the barrier erected around the courtyard and somehow sweeping away all sound, drowning the world in an ocean of silence. John didn’t even have time to identify which spell it was that had done it before the waves were gone, leaving only a stillness in their place. A ringing in John’s ears made it impossible to tell whether the sounds had actually silenced the world or simply rendered him deaf.

While John could hear nothing more than a vague tone echoing through his mind, Adantia’s tendrils surged forward. Lord Brighton’s shield lit with a golden hue, shining nearly bright enough to blind John as well as deafen, and then exploded in a cacophony of golden sparks, shattering into several pieces – but also releasing a series of golden runes into the air, runes that attached themselves to Lord Brighton’s armor and changed its silvery sheen to a layer of golden light that echoed off the armor and through the courtyard. As it passed over the Barrier and washed through the courtyard, John’s sense of hearing returned slowly, the ringing noise in his ears fading, replaced by the alert and in some cases panicked screams around him.

But Moira’s voice rose above it all. Even as her father charged directly at Adantia, his weapons lost but his spirit still inflamed, fists glowing golden as they connected with Adantia – once, twice, thrice. No metal defended her, the few cables that attempted to place themselves between the two crumbling on impact with his empowered fists, softening the blows as well as noodles. Lord Brighton drew back for a fourth strike, his fist primed and glistening with a fresh coat of golden aura.

Then, the scene fell still. Not silent – the gasps, shouts, and whispers of the crowd still gathered around the arcaded courtyard made sure of that. But utterly still all the same. Adantia, bleeding from several fresh cuts and with bruises already forming from Lord Brighton’s onslaught, was still smiling as all seemed to come to a halt, as if time had frozen in the inner courtyard.

“I can press this further, if you think it’s necessary. But I think this should do for a… ‘friendly’ duel, yeah?” Adantia called out, her voice rising above the murmurs of the shocked crowd. “I get the feeling you could break free if you really wanted to, but you wouldn’t be in any better of a position.”

“You are either the woman you claim to be… or someone who could put the old rumors of her to shame. A feat I do not speak of lightly,” Lord Brighton announced, voice taking on the commanding presence of a leader. “I yield to you… Adantia.”

“Why did they stop?”

“What’s going on?”

“He just gave up?”

“No, look, around his arms!”

“Around his everything,” John breathed reverently, awed by what he was seeing. His mundane eyes saw a bit of a blurred vision, the scene before him cast in a pallid gray, but he knew precisely what he was looking at even without Observe’s new passive… though he’d never imagined exactly how precise and powerful Adantia could be.

Lord Brighton stood wrapped nearly from head to toe in the silver gleam of metallic cables, broken down to each individual strand. Individually and ordinarily they would be far weaker as such, but John recalled Adantia’s words about her cables – how she had been a part of Paix since its founding, how her mana resonated with every piece of the destroyed city, and how much time and effort she had put into pouring her very essence into the little pieces she had left of it. With thousands of individual strands covering every part of his body, Lord Brighton was bound so tightly that although he quivered and shook, his movements were so small as to be nearly unnoticeable.

And recalling how the cables felt against his own body, how indomitable Adantia’s mere will was even when she was taking things lightly, John felt a chill down his spine. The admission by Adantia that Lord Brighton could break free at all was nothing short of inspiring or terrifying, depending on whether you were behind Lord Brighton’s shield… or standing before his wrath.

“Yield? Didn’t even know the Order could do that,” Adantia joked, even as her cables were rescinding. “You believe I am who I say I am now?”

“You are either the woman you claim to be or someone powerful enough to enforce that claim regardless. Not a power I would acknowledge without due reason,” Lord Brighton’s words came loudly and confidently in spite of the fact he was slowly being released from a mass of fine cables numerous enough to haze the air around him. “But even if I were to deny your identity, your power is clear. And because of that, only one thing is important… What do you intend to do with this power? Why have you come to Springfield?”

Adantia’s eyes hesitated. They turned away from Lord Brighton, towards her inner self, then danced across the crowd for a few moments. Her eyes passed through John, over Moira, and then flicked back to John once more. As her eyes locked with his, for just a moment, a sad and bitter smile crossed Adantia’s face.

“I want to see how the world has changed since I left it,” Adantia said, her voice quiet but carrying in the uncoordinated stillness that encompassed the courtyard.